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It had been a few months since the lockdown had ended. That hellish week had faded into memory for a majority of Tokyo’s population, accepting the government’s story of mass hallucinations caused by a gas leak and moving on with their lives. School had been mostly the same. The only real difference in class had been that a particular trio of students had become more restless, constantly checking up on each other even during lessons. The school as a whole decided not to acknowledge that a few members of the student body were not going to be returning. Aside from one situation where Atsuro had fallen asleep in class after an all-nighter and woken up in a sudden panic before Kazuya and Yuzu had rushed over to his desk to reassure him, things were normal, or as close to it as they could manage. They still would get looks of sympathy from their peers when anything relevant to their time in the lockdown came up, but the trio latched on to each other in solidarity. Overall, the school weeks were a little tense, slow, and boring, but normal.
It was after one of these normal school weeks that Kazuya and Atsuro found themselves spending a Sunday afternoon in the latter’s house, a moderately sized property that was somewhat lacking in furnishings in most rooms. The exception to this rule being Atsuro’s bedroom, a cluttered, bright room with anime and gaming posters plastered all over the walls. His computer, a complicated multi-screen setup that he had eventually worn down his programming mentor Naoya enough to help him build, took up most of the desk beside the door, an armless swivel chair as the seat. The other side of the room had his bed, an average wooden frame with a dark blue cover, very similar to the shade of his favourite hoodie. Alone in the house, as Atsuro’s parents were working abroad in America, the two boys found themselves squirrelled away in the hacker’s bedroom, the room owner typing away on his computer as his best friend laid on the bed.
“Aww man, why did it have to be English?” the capped boy grumbled as he worked on his homework assignment. It was an essay that had to be written entirely in English, following one of a few specified themes. Atsuro had chosen ‘bonds’ as his theme, a reminder of his friends, past and present, though he had gotten distracted again and again, and now had less than a day before the work was due. He struggled once again to resist pulling up the Niconico tab he knew was waiting for him on his web browser, before realising that he was stumped when it came to the word he wanted to use next. Luckily, he knew his companion was better at the language than him. “Hey Kazuya, help me out here. What’s the English word for when people live together and all that?” He asked.
“We had like, two weeks to do this, Atsuro. You should have started this ages ago,” the blue-haired boy sighed, rolling over to meet his friend’s sheepish gaze. “Anyway, you mean marriage,” he added. As the hacker turned back to his screens, Kazuya returned to his last position, stretched out like a satisfied cat among the blankets. “Or co-habiting, or roommates I guess, those would work too,” he thought aloud, mind trailing off. Atsuro nodded without looking.
A comfortable silence stretched after that, allowing Atsuro to focus on his assignment without his thoughts drifting too far. He could feel Kazuya’s presence behind him, a faint sixth sense remaining from the lockdown, and took comfort in it. It felt right, the two of them spending time together without having to worry about demons or danger, a calm, relaxing afternoon together… that he just had to spend doing homework. Great. The only sound was his keyboard as he typed away.
“When we get married, I think I’ll take your last name.”
Atsuro fell off his chair. He tumbled sideways as he spun to face Kazuya in surprise. His left shoulder slammed hard into the wooden floor, knocking the wind out of him. A pained groan escaped his lips as he looked up from his prone position to stare at the blue-haired teen now sat up on his bed, who continued as if nothing had happened.
“I mean, think about it. Kazuya Kihara sounds way cooler than Atsuro Minegishi. That sounds weird, like you married Naoya or something,” Kazuya blinked twice, as if only then noticing that Atsuro was laying on the ground, not having moved since colliding with it. His fallen friend winced as he brought an arm to his shoulder. “Are you alright?” he asked from his perch, amusement present in his voice, though edged with concern.
Atsuro attempted to push himself up to a sitting position. “Yeah, I’m fi- maybe not…” he trailed off, gritting his teeth when the movement caused a spike of pain through his shoulder. Kazuya was by his side in an instant, instinct to protect taking over as he carefully assisted his friend in manoeuvring himself so that he was no longer lying on his side. Noticing the tension in the boy beside him, Atsuro gave a quick damage report, “Hurts worse than a normal demon hit, not as bad as the Bel’s crap”. Granted that was a large range. Thanks to the Harmonizer in their COMPs, strikes and magic from demons was greatly reduced to a level that they could get used to, being able to take hits decently well while also dealing back much more than they would otherwise. Meanwhile, the Bel demons were leagues above the normal monsters around, and even with the Harmonizer active, being nearly burned to death by Beldr’s black fire and having Belial’s trident skewer him through his thigh were among the worst pains he had ever felt in his life. Well, physical pains at least. He cut that thought there, not wanting the trip down memory lane. “Ugh, where’s Yuzu when you need her,” he muttered.
Kazuya sighed guiltily; he had seen a range of emotions play out on Atsuro’s face, none of them positive. Part of him wished the demons were still around, or at least that he was able to still use skills so that he would be able to heal away his best friend’s pain. “She wouldn’t be able to use Dia any more even if she was here. Now hold still,” deciding to focus on doing what he could do to help instead, he slowly began to pull Atsuro’s sleeve up to expose his shoulder. A large red mark from the impact shone on the hacker’s skin, and when touched caused the boy to yelp as he flinched, following that with a hiss when the movement caused another wave of pain. “Yeah, that’s going to be ugly. You got an ice pack anywhere? Frozen veg even?” Kazuya asked, wincing in sympathy.
After a slightly too long pause, Atsuro’s head darted to the side in an attempt to hide his embarrassed blush, eyes darting between the floor and the wall. “Uh, I don’t know?” he meekly responded, “Maybe there’s something? You know I don’t cook!” He refused to look his best friend in the face. They had discussed his ‘unhealthy eating habits’ and how he should ‘really take more care of’ himself a few times lately and the topic coming up again made him feel a little ashamed. He still didn’t look as Kazuya sighed again and left the room at a quick pace, footsteps muted as he headed towards the kitchen. Making the most of a moment to himself, Atsuro used his right hand to hold his left arm against his body just above the elbow, keeping it as still as possible as he found his footing and moved to sit on the edge of his bed. Holding his own sleeve up now, he turned when he heard the footsteps approaching him again. Looking at his dear companion stood in the doorway, he couldn’t help but laugh even if it caused his shoulder to ache from shaking. Safe to say, when he woke up that morning he never would have imagined being in a situation like this. “Nice ice pack you have there!” he smiled, pointing at the tub of ice cream his friend held.
“This was literally the only thing in your freezer,” Kazuya tried to sound annoyed or strict, but between the frankly absurd situation and the relief that swept through him hearing Atsuro laugh, he couldn’t help but smile himself. He wrapped the ice cream container in a towel he had grabbed as he passed the bathroom and plopped down alongside his injured friend, the mattress dipping under the weight of the boys. As he pressed the makeshift ice pack against the sore section, he couldn’t help but return to the topic of Atsuro’s eating habits, “You really need to eat better you know. Instant ramen is not a good diet.”
As the cold met the pain, the cap-clad hacker tensed, then forced himself to relax again when tensing caused him more pain. He looked down; hat shadowing his eyes as he carefully leaned into Kazuya. “Yeah, it’s just… dinner time is a family occasion you know? Since my parents spend so much time away working it’s just kind of lonely. Besides, I’m an awful cook and instant stuff is cheaper anyway!” Trying to lighten the suddenly heavy atmosphere in the room, he forced a laugh which trailed off into an awkward silence that hung between the boys as they sat side by side, one holding an ice cream pack against the other’s shoulder. In a way, it wasn’t entirely dissimilar to a time months before where the two of them had spent a night staring up at a star-filled sky together.
When the silence was broken, it was Kazuya who spoke, his tone full of confidence and leaving no room to argue, “You should stay over at my house more often.”
“Huh?”
He nodded to reinforce his point. “You’ve met my parents a few times already, they won’t mind. I’ve told them more than enough about you anyway. They’ll love you. Besides, you’ve had some of the stuff I’ve cooked for Naoya before and you liked that well enough. Maybe I could teach you a few things you can make yourself without too much trouble. Besides…” As he trailed off he raised the arm not holding the ice pack and rested it on his friend’s shoulder near to his neck, rubbing slightly in an attempt to be comforting.”…You’re already family to me. Oh, and also just think about what Mari would say if I told her you weren’t eating properly!” He added a joke at the end to lift spirits, silently pleased when Atsuro spluttered out a laugh.
“Okay, okay! I get it! Just put that thing down for a minute, would you? My arm is way too cold!”
Kazuya moved the ice pack away, setting it down further along the bed, before scrutinizing the bruise that was beginning to change colour. He frowned, “It’s really not pretty. Looks like it’s going to go really dark purple and I doubt you’ll be able to hide it during gym tomorrow.” He paused for a second before adding, “If you’re even going to do gym tomorrow. It’s going to be pretty sore for a while.”
“Great…” Atsuro groaned, “I’ll show it to our teacher tomorrow, shouldn’t be too hard to be allowed to sit out.” He suddenly looked away sheepishly before making a request of his friend: “Hey, if anybody asks or starts gossiping or anything, can we say that I got it protecting you?” Kazuya raised an eyebrow. “Seriously! The whole school knows we were in the lockdown thanks to my freak out before, and it’s obvious we’re all close right? This whole situation is really stupid and I don’t want to sound lame like ‘oh I fell off a chair’ so… Let’s say there were three - no four! - guys who cornered you when we were out shopping or something, and some of the had knives so I ran in to help you out. You fought back against them and disarmed them while I was hitting them with my bag and stuff, then one caught you off guard and was going to punch you real hard and I care about you a lot so I ran in, pushed you out the way and took the hit okay?” As Atsuro continued his made-up tale passionately on the fly, Kazuya’s eyebrow slowly continued to climb his face. “Everybody knows people went crazy in there and were attacking each other… Okay yeah no, why did I bring that up…” He swallowed tensely, “My point is that we can say we learned to protect ourselves and Yuzu would totally back us up! It wouldn’t even be a lie really… A-and anyway, I don’t think it would be out of character for me to help you out…” His face dropped, furrowed brows hidden in the shadow of his hat as he shifted forward to face the floor. He no longer took the risk of continuing to talk, throat too tight and eyes too moist as bad memories surfaced.
As Atsuro curled in on himself, Kazuya scooted closer to him, laying his arm around his friend’s neck and over his uninjured shoulder. He snaked his other arm around Atsuro’s chest, before pulling the hacker’s back into his chest in a firm hug. He said nothing for a while, actions speaking far louder than words would be able. When he did speak up, it was with a hushed tone, “You do help me out. You help me out all the time Atsuro. I never would have lasted through everything without you.” A soft murmur of reassurance meant only for the boy who had stayed by his side through thick and thin left his lips, “So okay. Four guys, some of them with knives and you played the hero and saved me when things went bad. It’s just a shame that in this story I don’t manage to protect you.”
After a few minutes, Atsuro reached up with his right arm and took off his hat, using the soft fabric to wipe his eyes before setting it down by his knee. As he looked over at the blue-haired boy behind him, the slight reddening on his face and lack of his usual headwear made him look more vulnerable as he whispered, “Hey, can you pass me the ice cream back? It’s hurting again.” As the cold pressure returned to his bruised shoulder, he shuddered slightly before leaning back into Kazuya’s warmth. By this point they each had a hand on the ice pack at his shoulder, the contact between them bringing comfort in the quiet air. The computer, sat forgotten, had switched into sleep mode a while ago due to lack of interaction.
“Atsuro? Would you like to spend the night at my place?” The question was simple, a common conversation for a pair of friends to have, but held layers of promises: companionship, a proper home-cooked meal, a real family setting. Part of him wanted to refuse, afraid to intrude, but his own family had been away for a while. He could handle things by himself usually thanks to the money they would always send him and them keeping the bills up to date, but the loneliness was a real problem when he was alone. The pain from his injury and the semi-related heightened emotional state he found himself in had worn him out to the point that he found himself nodding along even as Kazuya continued in an attempt to convince him. “I can call my parents, tell them there was an accident and you got yourself hurt. I don’t want to leave you here by yourself when you can’t even lift your arm properly. They’ll understand. Naoya’s old room is still all set up so you can take that for a night or two.” His phone was already in his hand.
“Sounds good,” Atsuro replied wearily. His friend walked out of the room to make the call, taking the ice cream tub with him to return to the freezer and instructing him to gather clothes for a couple of days. It wasn’t the easiest job with only one usable arm, but by the time Kazuya returned to the room with a soft smile, he had gathered everything he thought he would need. Together they loaded the clothes into a small suitcase, which Kazuya refused to let him pull himself, and Atsuro returned his cap to its usual spot on his head. To his embarrassment, he needed his friend’s assistance when it came to pulling a coat on over his hoodie but it was well worth the extra layer of protection and warmth. When he went to turn off his computer, he made sure to save the assignment as far as he had managed to write. Reading the last line again, the mention of marriage brought Kazuya’s sentence that had started this whole mess back to the forefront of his mind. He shook his head, attempting to dispel his blush; he would leave that for another time, asking what meaning was really behind those words. When his friend joined him and asked what he would do about the next day’s homework, Atsuro gave a casual reply, “I’ll tell Teach that I sent it, they probably won’t check till late anyway. Then I’ll finish it after school, hack into the system and make it look like it was there the whole time!” he grinned. After double-checking they had everything he would need, Atsuro grabbed his trademark bright orange shoulder bag that contained all the electronics he could possibly want and, with a little assistance, slung it over the usual shoulder, quietly relieved it wasn’t his injured side.
As they exited his home and he locked the front door behind them, Atsuro felt a mix of emotions. His shoulder still hurt quite a bit, pain spiking whenever it was jostled and he was a little embarrassed by the concern in his best friend’s eyes as he hovered beside him protectively, but that was drowned out by the relief of having his companionship and the promise of a good home-cooked dinner. After all, he did have to admit that he had really enjoyed Kazuya’s cooking in the past when they had spent time together staying late at Naoya’s apartment. For once, he found himself really looking forward to a family meal.
They had real ice packs at Kazuya's place.